University of Virginia Library

20. EDGAR HUNTLY;
OR,
MEMOIRS OF A SLEEP-WALKER.
CHAPTER XX.

I likewise burned with impatience
to know the condition of my
family, to dissipate at once their tormenting
doubts and my own, with regard to
our mutual safety. The evil that I
feared had befallen them was too enormous
to allow me to repose in suspense,
and my restlessness and ominous forebodings
would be more intolerable than
any hardship or toils to which I could
possibly be subjected during this journey.

I was much refreshed and invigorated
by the food that I had taken, and by the
rest of an hour. With this stock of
recruited force I determined to scale the
hill. After receiving minute directions,
and returning many thanks for my hospitable
entertainment, I set out.

The path was indeed intricate, and
deliberate attention was obliged to be
exerted in order to preserve it. Hence
my progress was slower than I wished.
The first impulse was to fix my eye upon
the summit, and to leap from crag to
crag till I reached it, but this my experience
had taught me was impracticable.
It was only by winding through gullies,
and coasting precipices and bestriding
chasms, that I could hope finally to gain
the top, and I was assured that by one
way only was it possible to accomplish
even this.

An hour was spent in struggling
with impediments, and I seemed to have
gained no way. Hence a doubt was
suggested whether I had not missed the
true road. In this doubt I was confirmed
by the difficulties which now grew up
before me. The brooks, the angles and
the hollows, which my hostess had described,
were not to be seen. Instead of
these, deeper dells, more headlong torrents
and wider gaping rifts were incessantly
encountered.

To return was as hoples as to proceed.
I consoled myself with thinking that
the survey which my informant had made
of the hill-side, might prove inaccurate,
and that in spite of her predictions, the
heights might be reached by other means
than by those pointed out by her. I
will not enumerate my toilsome expedients,
my frequent disappointments and
my desperate exertions. Suffice it to say

that I gained the upper space, not till
the sun had dipped beneath the horizon.

My satisfaction at accomplishing thus
much was not small, and I hied, with renovated
spirits, to the opposite brow. This
proved to be a steep that could not be
descended. The river flowed at its
foot. The opposite bank was five hundred
yards distant, and was equally
towering and steep as that on which I
stood. Appearances were adapted to
persuade you that these rocks had formerly
joined, but by some mighty effort
of nature, had been severed, that the
stream might find way through the
chasm. The channel, however, was encumbered
with asperities over which
the river fretted and foamed with thundering
impetuosity.

I pondered for a while on these stupendous
scenes. They ravished my attention
from considerations that related

to myself; but this interval was short, and
I began to measure the descent, in order
to ascertain the practicability of treading
it. My survey terminated in bitter disappointment.
I turned my eye successively
eastward and westward. Solebury lay
in the former direction, and thither I
desired to go. I kept along the verge
in this direction, till I reached an impassable
rift. Beyond this I saw that the
steep grew lower, but it was impossible
to proceed farther. Higher up the descent
might be practicable, and though
more distant from Solebury, it was
better to reach the road, even at that
distance, than never to reach it.

Changing my course, therefore, I
explored the spaces above. The night
was rapidly advancing, the grey clouds
gathered in the south-east, and a chilling
blast, the usual attendent of a night in

October, began to whistle among the
pigmy cedars that scantily grew upon
these heights. My progress would quickly
be arrested by darkness, and it behoved
me to provide some place of shelter
and repose. No recess, better than an
hollow in the rock, presented itself to my
anxious scrutiny.

Meanwhile I would not dismiss the
hope of reaching the road, which I saw
some hundred feet below, winding along
the edge of the river, before daylight
should utterly fail. Speedily these hopes
derived new vigour from meeting a ledge
that irregularly declined from the brow of
the hill. It was wide enough to allow
of cautious footing. On a similar stratum,
or ledge, projecting still further from
the body of the hill, and close to the surface
of the river, was the road. This
stratum ascended from the level of the
stream, while that on which I trod rapidly

descended. I hoped that they would
speedly be blended, or at least approach
so near as to allow me to leap from one to
the other without enormous hazard.

This fond expectation was frustrated.
Presently I perceived that the ledge
below began to descend, while that above
began to tend upward, and was quickly
terminated by the uppermost surface of
the cliff. Here it was needful to pause.
I looked over the brink and considered
whether I might not leap from my present
station, without endangering my
limbs. The road into which I should
fall was a rocky pavement far from being
smooth. The descent could not be less
than forty or fifty feet. Such an attempt
was, to the last degree, hazardous, but
was it not better to risque my life by
leaping from this eminence, than to
remain and perish on the top of this
inhospitable mountain. The toils which

I had endured, in reaching this height
appeared to my panic-struck fancy, less
easy to be borne again than death.

I know not but that I should have
finally resolved to leap, had not different
views been suggested by observing that
the outer edge of the road was, in like
manner, the brow of a steep which terminated
in the river. The surface of the
road, was twelve or fifteen feet above
the level of the stream, which, in this
spot was still and smooth. Hence I
inferred that the water was not of inconsiderable
depth. To fall upon rocky
points was, indeed, dangerous, but to
plunge into water of sufficient depth,
even from an height greater than that
at which I now stood, especially to one to
whom habit had rendered water almost
as congenial an element as air, was
scarcely attended with inconvenience.
This expedient was easy and safe.

Twenty yards from this spot, the channel
was shallow, and to gain the road from
the stream, was no difficult exploit.

Some disadvantages, however, attended
this scheme. The water was
smooth, but this might arise from some
other cause than its depth. My gun,
likewise, must be left behind me, and
that was a loss to which I felt invincible
repugnance. To let it fall upon the road,
would put it in my power to retrieve
the possession, but it was likely to be
irreparably injured by the fall.

While musing upon this expedient,
and weighing injuries with benefits, the
night closed upon me. I now considered
that should I emerge in safety from the
stream, I should have many miles to
travel before I could reach an house.
My clothes meanwhile would be loaded
with wet. I should be heart-pierced by
the icy blast that now blew, and my

wounds and bruises would be chafed
into insupportable pain.

I reasoned likewise on the folly of
impatience and the necessity of repose.
By thus long continuance in one posture,
my sinews began to stiffen, and my reluctance
to make new exertions to encrease.
My brows were heavy, and I felt an irresistible
propensity to sleep. I concluded
to seek some shelter, and resign myself,
my painful recollections, and my mournful
presages to sweet forgetfulness. For
this end, I once more ascended to the
surface of the cliff. I dragged my weary
feet forward, till I found somewhat that
promised me the shelter that I sought.

A cluster of cedars appeared, whose
branches over-arched a space that
might be called a bower. It was a slight
cavity, whose flooring was composed of
loose stones and a few faded leaves blown
from a distance, and finding a temporary

lodgement here. On one side was a rock,
forming a wall rugged and projecting
above. At the bottom of the rock was a
rift, some-what resembling a coffin in
shape, and not much larger in dimensions.
This rift terminated on the opposite
side of the rock, in an opening that
was too small for the body of a man to
pass. The distance between each entrance
was twice the length of a man.

This bower was open to the South-east
whence the gale now blew. It therefore
imperfectly afforded the shelter of
which I stood in need; but it was the
best that the place and the time afforded.
To stop the smaller entrance of the cavity
with a stone, and to heap before the other,
branches lopped from the trees with my
hatchet, might somewhat contribute to
my comfort.

This was done, and thrusting myself
into this recess, as far as I was able, I prepared

for repose. It might have been reasonably
suspected to be the den of
rattle-snakes or panthers; but my late contention
with superior dangers and more
formidable enemies made me reckless of
these, but another inconvenience remained.
In spite of my precautions, my
motionless posture and slender covering
exposed me so much to the cold that I
could not sleep.

The air appeared to have suddenly
assumed the temperature of mid-winter.
In a short time, my extremeties were
benumbed, and my limbs shivered and
ached as if I had been seized by an
ague. My bed likewise was dank and
uneven, and the posture I was obliged
to assume, unnatural and painful. It
was evident that my purpose could not
be answered by remaining here.

I, therefore, crept forth, and began
to reflect upon the possibility of continuing

my journey. Motion was the
only thing that could keep me from
freezing, and my frame was in that state
which allowed me to take no repose in
the absence of warmth; since warmth
were indispensible. It now occurred to
me to ask whether it were not possible
to kindle a fire.

Sticks and leaves were at hand. My
hatchet and a pebble would enable me
to extract a spark. From this, by suitable
care and perseverance, I might finally
procure sufficient fire to give me comfort
and ease, and even enable me to sleep.
This boon was delicious and I felt as
if I were unable to support a longer
deprivation of it.

I proceeded to execute this scheme. I
took the dryest leaves, and endeavoured
to use them as tinder, but the driest
leaves were moistened by the dews. They

were only to be found in the hollows, in
some of which were pools of water and
others were dank. I was not speedily
discouraged, but my repeated attempts
failed, and I was finally compelled to
relinquish this expedient.

All that now remained was to wander
forth and keep myself in motion till the
morning. The night was likely to prove
tempestuous and long. The gale seemed
freighted with ice, and acted upon my
body like the points of a thousand needles.
There was no remedy, and I mustered
my patience to endure it.

I returned again, to the brow of the
hill. I ranged along it till I reached a
place where the descent was perpendicular,
and, in consequence of affording no
sustenance to trees or bushes, was nearly
smooth and bare. There was no road
to be seen, and this circumstance, added
to the sounds which the ripling current

produced, afforded me some knowledge
of my situation.

The ledge, along which the road was
conducted, disappeared near this spot.
The opposite sides of the chasm through
which flowed the river, approached nearer
to each other, in the form of jutting
promontories. I now stood upon the
verge of that on the northern side. The
water flowed at the foot, but, for the
space of ten or twelve feet from the rock,
was so shallow as to permit the traveller
and his horse to wade through it, and
thus to regain the road which the receding
precipice had allowed to be continued
on the farther side.

I knew the nature and dimensions of
this ford. I knew that, at a few yards
from the rock, the channel was of great
depth. To leap into it, in this place, was
a less dangerous exploit, than at the spot
where I had formerly been tempted to

leap. There I was unacquainted with
the depth, but here I knew it to be considerable.
Still there was some ground
of hesitation and fear. My present station
was loftier, and how deeply I might
sink into this gulf, how far the fall and
the concussion would bereave me of my
presence of mind, I could not determine.
This hesitation vanished, and placing
my tom-hawk and fusil upon the ground,
I prepared to leap.

This purpose was suspended, in the
moment of its execution, by a faint sound,
heard from the quarter whence I had
come. It was the warning of men, but
had nothing in common with those which
I had been accustomed to hear. It was
not the howling of a wolf or the yelling
of a panther. These had often been overheard
by night during my last year's
excursion to the lakes. My fears whispered

that this was the vociferation of a
savage.

I was unacquainted with the number
of the enemies who had adventured into
this district. Whether those whom I had
encountered at Deb's hut were of that
band whom I had met with in the cavern,
was merely a topic of conjecture. There
might be an half-score of troops, equally
numerous, spread over the wilderness,
and the signal I had just heard might
betoken the approach of one of these.
Yet by what means they should gain
this nook, and what prey they expected
to discover, were not easily conceived.

The sounds, somewhat diversified,
nearer and rising from different quarters,
were again heard. My doubts and apprehensions
were increased. What expedient
to adopt for my own safety, was a
subject of rapid meditation. Whether

to remain stretched upon the ground or to
rise and go forward. Was it likely the
enemy would coast along the edge of
the steep? Would they ramble hither to
look upon the ample scene which spread
on all sides around the base of this rocky
pinnacle? In that case, how should I
conduct myself! My arms were ready
for use. Could I not elude the necessity
of shedding more blood? Could I not
anticipate their assault by casting myself
without delay into the stream.

The sense of danger demanded more
attention to be paid to external objects
than to the motives by which my future
conduct should be influenced. My post
was on a circular projecture, in some
degree, detached from the body of the
hill, the brow of which continued in a
streight line, uninterrupted by this projecture,
which was somewhat higher than
the continued summit of the ridge. This

line ran at the distance of a few paces
from my post. Objects moving along
this line could merely be perceived to
move, in the present obscurity.

My scrutiny was entirely directed to
this quarter. Presently the treading of
many feet was heard, and several figures
were discovered, following each other in
that streight and regular succession which
is peculiar to the Indians. They kept
along the brow of the hill joining the promontory.
I distinctly marked seven
figures in succession.

My resolution was formed. Should
any one cast his eye hither, suspect, or
discover an enemy, and rush towards
me, I determined to start upon my feet,
fire on my foe as he advanced, throw my
piece on the ground, and then leap into
the river.

Happily, they passed unobservant
and in silence. I remained, in the same

posture, for several minutes. At length,
just as my alarms began to subside, the
hollows, before heard, arose, and from the
same quarter as before. This convinced
me that my perils were not at an end. This
now appeared to be merely the vanguard,
and would speedily be followed by others,
against whom the same caution was
necessary to be taken.

My eye, anxiously bent the only way
by which any one could approach, now
discerned a figure, which was indubitably
that of a man armed, none other
appeared in company, but doubtless
others were near. He approached, stood
still, and appeared to gaze stedfastly at
the spot where I lay.

The optics of a Lennilennapee I knew
to be far keener than my own. A log
or a couched fawn would never be mistaken
for a man, nor a man for a couched
fawn or a log. Not only a human being

would be instantly detected, but a decision
be unerringly made whether it were
friend or foe. That my prostrate body
was the object on which the attention of
this vigilant and stedfast gazer was fixed,
could not be doubted. Yet, since he
continued an inactive gazer, there was
ground for a possibility to stand upon,
that I was not recognized. My fate,
therefore, was still in suspense.

This interval was momentary. I
marked a movement, which my fears instantly
interpreted to be that of leveling
a gun at my head. This action was sufficiently
conformable to my prognostics.
Supposing me to be detected, there was
no need for him to change his post. Aim
might too fatally be taken, and his prey
be secured, from the distance at which
he now stood.

These images glanced upon my
thought, and put an end to my suspense.

A single effort placed me on my feet. I
fired with precipitation that precluded
the certainty of hitting my mark, dropped
my piece upon the ground, and leaped
from this tremendous height into the
river, I reached the surface, and sunk in
a moment to the bottom.

Plunging endlong into the water, the
impetus created by my fall from such an
height, would be slowly resisted by this
denser element. Had the depth been
less, its resistance would not perhaps
have hindered me from being mortally
injured against the rocky bottom. Had
the depth been greater, time enough
would not have been allowed me to
regain the surface. Had I fallen on
my side, I should have been bereaved
of life or sensibility by the shock which
my frame would have received. As it
was, my fate was suspended on a thread.
To have lost my presence of mind, to

have forborne to counteract my sinking,
for an instant, after I had reached the
water, would have made all exertions to
regain the air, fruitless. To so fortunate
a concurrence of events, was thy friend
indebted for his safety!

Yet I only emerged from the gulf to
encounter new perils. Scarcely had I
raised my head above the surface, and
inhaled the vital breath, when twenty
shots were aimed at me from the precipice
above. A shower of bullets fell
upon the water. Some of them did not
fall further than two inches from my
head. I had not been aware of this new
danger, and now that it assailed me continued
gasping the air, and floundering
at random. The means of eluding it
did not readily occur. My case seemed
desperate and all caution was dismissed.

This state of discomfiting surprise
quickly disappeared. I made myself acquainted,

at a glance, with the position of
surrounding objects. I conceived that
the opposite bank of the river would
afford me most security, and thither I
tended with all the expedition in my
power.

Meanwhile, my safety depended on
eluding the bullets that continued incessantly
to strike the water at an arm's
length from my body. For this end I
plunged beneath the surface, and only
rose to inhale fresh air. Presently the
firing ceased, the flashes that lately illuminated
the bank disappeared, and a
certain bustle and murmur of confused
voices gave place to solitude and silence.